An Offer to Talk
by BlushinRosie
Summary: Hermione is in America after the war and Steve stumbles upon her in the park.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** This takes place a month or two after the final battle in the Harry Potter Universe and sometime between Steve being unfrozen and the Avengers movie in the Marvelverse. And yes, I know the timelines don't match up.

**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize, I don't own.

**An Offer to Talk**

She sat down on a wooden park bench. The sun was just coming up and the grass behind her was still wet with dew. Not that she had touched it, but there was that fresh grass scent in the air. She sighed and leaned to put her head in her hands. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, in America and not at home in England. She just knew that she couldn't stay with the Weasley's and that England and really Europe too, was too close. There was too much loss, too much expectation, and too much… she wasn't sure she really knew.

How do you come to grips with a society that hunted you down like dogs for months, but now exalted you as a national hero? It didn't make her happy, it just made her angry. Where were all these people when she was starving or when Bellatrix was carving her up? The newspaper headlines were enough to give her whiplash. It wasn't just the Wizarding government either, the muggle one was also lauding her as a hero.

Going out in public was an exercise in nerves, it was true nobody had attacked her, but there were still bigot's and sympathizers walking free and in England it only felt like a matter of time before someone got to her or sent her a deadly curse through the post or a myriad of other harmful scenarios.

And now, even with all the loss and despair in their world, because nothing was back to normal yet Ronald bloody Weasley was pressuring her into marriage or at the very least into sex. She just wasn't ready for that. She'd spent a lot of time fantasizing about a relationship with him during Hogwarts, but after he left her and Harry in the woods, those dreams were shattered. He would never be able to live up to her expectations now. During the final battle when they had kissed it wasn't right. It was lackluster, sloppy, and fueled solely by adrenalin. She was pretty sure that ship had sailed.

Steve Rogers was taking his early morning run around the city. There was hardly anyone out in the park, which made it an ideal time for a run since it was quiet and tranquil. It was just his legs pounding against the concrete, his heart beating, and steady breathing to break the quiet.

Around the next corner he was startled to see someone sitting on a park bench in the distance. She, at least he was pretty sure it was a she; there was just some current trends he still didn't understand like men with long hair. She was dressed conservatively in neutrals. She was staring out at the park blankly and there wasn't really anything to suggest it, but he just knew she was a soldier.

He wouldn't normally stop his run for anything short of the apocalypse or at least an alien invasion but he really thought she might just need a friend or at least a good listener. He knew all about war, trauma and burdens halved and if he could help one lost soldier then it was worth the break in his run.

He slowed to a walk until he reached the bench. He sat on the other end of the bench so as not to startle the woman. She glanced over without turning her head. Now that he was up close he could see she was young, younger than he initially thought. For a moment he wondered if she had been sent home wounded, it would certainly explain the jaded look in her eye.

"What branch did you serve in?" He turned earnest blue eyes on her.

Hermione frowned. Branch, what did he mean? This man looked nothing like a wizard, so he shouldn't know her. He was tall and well-built and he looked exactly like a stereotypical American World War II soldier. Oh, military branch, that's what he meant.

She gave a wry grin. "It wasn't like that, it was an underground war. There were no ranks, just outnumbered rebels fighting a madman."

He winced. No wonder she looked so disillusioned, civilians didn't have the support that the military had, though he was in no way saying any soldier had it easy. "How long were you involved in the conflict?"

"Since I was eleven." She waved a hand, "But it didn't heat up until I was fifteen and it ended this past year."

He raised his brows. He didn't know what an eleven year old could do in a war, even an underground one, but it was awfully young. "What are you doing here and not back home renewing acquaintances and settling down?" he asked as delicately as he could.

She let out a huff of breathe, "The papers for one, I'm sick of having lies and speculation written down as fact. I- I'm not ready to settle yet, I don't know what I want and" she paused, hesitant to continue, "I'm angry."

He cocked his head waiting for her to continue.

Her jaw tightened as she spoke, her delicate British accent harsh as she shared her frustration. "All these people who are congratulating me, sending me thank you cards would have turned me in to be tortured and killed only a few weeks ago without a second thought."

Steve leaned in and stared directly at her, "Not everyone is strong enough to stand up for what they believe, sometimes they need someone to do it for them. I don't know what you did, I don't keep up with the foreign papers, but it sounds as if you did something extraordinarily brave. That's even rarer to be strong enough to do that; very few people have the strength of character to be real heroes."

He paused and then continued with a good-natured grin, "As for the media, if I knew how to fix that I'd gladly tell you."

Hermione let out a soft chuckle as she stood. He stood as well and she had to look up to several inches to meet his eyes. "Thanks," she said sincerely.

"No problem and if you decide to turn your vacation into a permanent stay and you need a job…" He took out a pen and notebook and scribbled something down. He tore the sheet from the notebook and handed it to her. "Give me a call; I might be able to help."

She tucked the paper into her pocket and smiled, "Thanks Mr. Rogers." With a wave she walked down the park path. He watched her for a second before turning the other way and restarting his run. He wasn't sure Fury would like it that he'd recruited a foreigner that he knew next to nothing about, but if she gave him a call back he'd do his best to give her a shot with S.H.I.E.L.D. He was rarely wrong about people and he thought the shady organization could use a few more honest people like her.

**A/N **Thanks for reading!

BlushinRosie


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** This takes place a month or two after the final battle in the Harry Potter Universe and sometime between Steve being unfrozen and the Avengers movie in the marvelverse. And yes, I know the timelines don't match up.

**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize, I don't own.

**Chapter 2**

Steve fumbled with his phone for a second until he found the green answer call button. He still hadn't gotten the hang of all this technology. "Hello, Steve Rogers speaking."

"Hello, Mr. Rogers. It's Hermione Granger. We spoke a couple of weeks ago in the Park," came a slightly nervous voice over the phone. Although he had not caught her name last time, he recognized her soft British accent right away.

"That's right I never caught your name. What can I do for you Miss Granger?"

"I decided to make my stay long term and you mentioned that you might know of a job…"

He picked up where she trailed off, "I did. Let me take down your name and number and I'll get you an interview."

He cradled the phone between his head and shoulder as he scrimmaged around for a pen in his apartment. "What made you decide to stay?"

"Honestly? The opportunity to start fresh."

Steve smiled gently, "It's one of the best things about America Miss."

Hermione laughed, "I see I'm about to be treated to your American's infamous patriotism from you Mr. Rogers."

He let out a short chuckle, "One of the other good things about America I assure you."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

He found one and grabbed a pad of paper. "Is your last name spelled A-I or with only an A?"

"Just an A," she answered.

He looked at the screen of his phone to check the number. "And is this the best number to reach you at?"

"Yes it is."

"Great. I'll call you back within the next few days with details."

He could hear the earnestness in her voice as she spoke, "Sounds good and thank you again. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Goodbye."

"Bye," she said and then hung up.

Steve ran a hand through his short blond hair. Now he had to tell Fury and worse he had to get Fury to approve. He was going to get yelled at. No, he was going to get yelled at a lot. He'd best get himself over to the office, before Fury found out through whichever way he was probably bugging his apartment.

When he got to Shield headquarters he was greeted by Agent Hill, "Hello Captain, Fury's in his office waiting for you." She had a small smirk on her face and it only increased his dread.

If Steve was a lesser man he would have gulped, but as it was he just walked straight and tall and tried not to look cowed as he entered Nick Fury's office instead.

Fury was sitting at his desk when he walked in. There were a lot of glass windows in the office, so the whole room was well lit. Steve waited while Fury finished reading over a document. He hadn't looked up when he first walked in the room and even though Steve knew it was a tactic to make him more nervous he could still feel the anxiety welling in his stomach.

Though Fury wasn't looking at him he could feel his disapproving looks as if they were leveled at him full force. Fury moved the paper he was reading toward right side of his desk, folded his hands and finally looked at him. Though, he was typically a taciturn man, Steve thought that he looked particularly unhappy. His frown was more pronounced and his eyes had a cold quality about them.

"I hope that you were talking about a job at the coffee house when you offered that woman an interview." There was something like a warning in his voice as he spoke.

Steve shifted on his heels, but shook his head no.

"So this Hermione Granger, spelled with only an A, do you even know anything about her?" He didn't wait for an answer before he continued, "We don't know what you told her about the agency and for all we know she is could be an assassin or a spy, because we know next to nothing about this Granger woman."

Instead of feeling ashamed, Steve felt indignant. He knew he was an excellent judge of character and the woman he had met a few weeks ago was not a spy or an assassin. He just knew she was a good person, like he knew he was Captain America and Nick Fury was an unmitigated bastard. "I didn't tell her anything about the agency. I just offered to see if I could get her a job if she decided to stay in the country after I met her in the park."

"You're sure you didn't say anything?"

Steve sighed, "I didn't and she didn't even appear to know who I was. I approached her rather than the other way around."

Fury appeared mollified, though it was hard to tell since he still looked disapproving. "That doesn't change the fact that we know next to nothing about her."

Steve tilted his head. "What do you mean you? I thought you had records on everyone." And to Steve, Hermione sounded like the kind of person who had lots of information stored away about them. Granted she likely wasn't a public figure like Tony Stark, but it sounded like she was getting hounded by the media fairly often recently.

A pinched look came over his face. "Her file is all blacked out. All we know about this Hermione Granger is that she's nineteen, was born in Crawley, England, and has the highest award given to civilians from the British government. There isn't even a picture. Even the directors haven't been able to access her information."

Steve had a flash of understanding. "Oh this isn't about the fact that I recruited someone. In fact you probably even want her on your side if she has that high of a distinction. You are just upset she's managed to evade the agency."

When Fury didn't comment Steve knew he had hit the nail on the head. He sighed, "Look I really think she'd be a good fit. Just give her an interview and if you are worried about an intelligence leak or something then interview her over lunch at one of the cafes nearby."

He stared out with his one good eye at Steve and looked thoughtful or at the very least less hostile. "Tomorrow at noon and bring her here."

"What should I tell her about the position?"

His brow rose sardonically. "Well if she's as good as you think she is we'll find a place for her."

Which basically meant don't tell her anything, because there was nothing to tell. If she got the job it would be in whatever field fit her best.

"Alright I'll give her a call and escort her here tomorrow. If that's all?"

Fury nodded and made a shooing motion with his hand.

Once he was out of the building, he flipped open his phone and scrolled through the recent calls menu. He found her number and hit the dial button.

She answered quickly, "Hello."

"Hey it's Steve Rogers. I got you that interview for tomorrow at noon. Does that work for you?" He started towards the garage where he had parked.

"Noon works for me. Can I ask what kind of job this is? I don't believe you mentioned it."

"It's a government job and I'm not really sure what you'd be doing. If they like you they will find a place for you."

"And they will hire me even though I'm British?" She asked skeptically.

"They hire anyone with the necessary skills."

Suspicion colored her tone. "Well why haven't I heard about this then? I've been looking in the newspaper for jobs for over a week."

Steve was glad that she couldn't see him, since he knew he had a grimace on his face. If she was there then he knew it would be much worse because it was likely he'd also be squirming. She sounded almost as intimidating over the phone as Fury.

He hedged, "It's kind of recommendation only."

There was silence from the other line for a moment, before she answered, "Alright. I'll accept that."

Steve let out a long sigh and the tension drained from his shoulders. "Great. Hey listen I'm guessing you don't have a car or anything yet. If you want I could pick you up and escort you in?" He hated being underhanded, but this would provide him a good reason to bring her in the office without her being too suspicious.

"That would actually be very nice and I would appreciate it," she sounded genuinely surprised by the offer and Steve felt a little guiltier.

"Well I'll see you tomorrow at 11:30 then."

"That sounds great. I really do appreciate the help. Bye," she said and with a click she hung up.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. This was way more complicated than he expected. Fury was not happy about the lack of foreknowledge. He had honestly suspected that there would be tons of information on her if she was appearing in the media, even overseas, but perhaps there was a good reason for it. He shrugged. He would worry about it tomorrow.

The next morning Hermione had dumped out all her clothes from her beaded bag onto her newly acquired bed. She had shifted through them at least twice and had not found anything suitable for an interview. While she had lived like a muggle for many years, she had never gotten the chance to get a muggle summer job or a regular job, so she didn't have many professional clothes on hand.

"Well no helping it now. Guess I'll have to use transfiguration," she mumbled to herself.

She put on a pair of khaki colored dress pants, the only professional piece of clothing she owned and then transfigured a t-shirt into a simple button down shirt.

She tapped her wand to her head and her wild hair smoothed out into tamed curls. She threw on a pair of shoes just as there was a solid knock on the door. She tucked her wand away and strode to the door.

She opened it and stepped out when she saw who she expected on the other side. "Hello, Mr. Rogers," she said brightly.

He smiled at her. "Please call me Steve. I don't think I'm that much older than you." That was slightly a lie. He was twenty five before he was frozen and he was never sure whether to count the seventy years he was frozen in his age or not. He didn't feel ninety five, nor did he look it.

"Please call me Hermione then and no I don't think you are much older than my nineteen. Unless you have superior genes you couldn't be more than twenty eight." Truthfully, Hermione was only nineteen in the muggle world, but because of her time turner use in her third year she had calculated that she was actually just shy of twenty one. However, they weren't going to be able to read her magical signature to figure that out.

Steve laughed softly. Superior genes was a little too close for comfort. There was a large part of him that worried that when she found out he was Captain America, a very public figure that she would be upset or treat him differently. He liked that she joked and talked to him like a regular person rather than Captain America. It was refreshing and if she stuck around or worked for Shield it was likely she would find out sooner rather than later who he was.

They began walking down the stairwell of the building she lived in. "I forgot to mention yesterday that I only have a motorcycle. We still have time to call a cab if you prefer?"

Hermione nearly snorted, after riding a myriad of magical methods of transportation, including brooms, hippogriffs, threstrals, and on one notable occasion a dragon, a motorcycle didn't really scare her. "That's fine as long as you have an extra helmet."

They had reached his bike by then and he handed her a helmet. "This is a really nice bike. Are you a collector? It's not an original I can tell, but it is modeled after the World War II models."

"No, I just liked the old ones and had one modeled after them." She was sharper than he had anticipated, but it wasn't like it was that unusual to have a specialty bike, so there was no harm in admitting it.

"He swung a leg over the vehicle and looked over at her as she put the helmet on. "You've rode a motorcycle before right?"

Hermione knew that as a witch wearing a helmet wasn't really going to make a difference. Neville had more than proven on several occasions that wizards were more resilient than muggles, but for appearance sake she was going to have to wear the helmet. "I've rode on others before." Well in a manner of speaking, it really couldn't be worse than the dragon.

He grinned boyishly at her. She hopped on and placed her hands on his waist. Objectively she did note that he was rather solid underneath his clothing. In fact there was some part of her that whispered that he was unnaturally built, but she dismissed it as the bike roared to life.

On the ride over with the wind in her hair, the warmth of the sun overhead, and the good company she felt the first stirrings of something other than the heavy cloud of anger and depression she had been feeling after the war.

Steve parked in an underground garage and held a hand out to help her off. She took off her borrowed helmet and smiled brightly at him. Steve had known that Hermione was an attractive girl, but when she smiled so happily at him he was momentarily stuck by how young she was. When she wasn't smiling there was something very world-weary and downtrodden about her, but the instant she smiled so freely she looked carefree and dazzling.

He resolved to help her through this; clearly her war experiences were still fresh for her. He could understand that, in fact there were days were WWII was still alarmingly real for him and he knew he was only starting to adjust. He still felt angry and lost, but now it was less about his war experiences and more about being in the wrong time period.

Actually, now that he thought about it that was another thing he liked about Hermione, she was almost a little old fashioned in dress and manner. She didn't bat a lash or get offended when he opened doors or helped her off the motorcycle and her clothing was simple with old fashioned styled details.

When he regained his ability to speak he said, "Come on. I'll walk you in." They walked toward the Shield's building. Hermione slowed her steps as she looked at the building and then took several fast steps to catch up with him.

"You didn't tell me this was an intelligence agency," she said as casually as possible. This was not something she wanted. They were bound to be suspicious about her lack of past. What if this wasn't even an interview? She hated to be as paranoid as Mad-eye, but she couldn't afford to expose herself or the wizarding world right now.

"Why do you think it's an intelligence agency?" he asked surprised. She was right, but he wasn't going to confirm it that easily.

Dispassionately her eyes moved over the building and listed the things she had catalogued as clues. "Understated exterior, high-tech security systems at every entrance, the fact that you are escorting me in, and you mentioned it was a government job. Clearly an intelligence agency. This is an interview not an interrogation right?" She slid her eyes over to him.

He scratched the back of his neck. "It's supposed to be an interview, but I can't promise that they won't want to know about your past. And the director is good at getting information."

She turned severe. "He will just have to learn to live with disappointment then." If Bellatrix Lestrange couldn't get information out of her then there was no way some muggle was going to either.

Steve had to give her credit she continued walking evenly and showed no signs of bolting. The only signs of her distress were the grim look on her face and the darkness in her eyes.

If she ran now that was tantamount to admitting she had something to hide. If she declined the interview that was nearly the same as running. Her only real option was going in and either giving flat out lying or giving no details at all. And somehow she just knew that wasn't going to go over well.

* * *

**A/N:** so I received something like 25 reviews for the first part of this and nearly every single one was a request to continue. I never expected it to be more than a one-shot, but with that many people asking I decided to continue. I'm not sure how good it will be, but I'll update it between the other fic I'm working on.

If anyone has suggestions feel free to leave it in a review or pm me.

Thanks so much for reading.

BlushinRosie


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** This takes place a month or two after the final battle in the Harry Potter Universe and sometime between Steve being unfrozen and the Avengers movie in the marvelverse. And yes, I know the timelines don't match up.

**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize, I don't own.

**Chapter 3**

Steve felt terrible as he led Hermione through the hallways of the agency with every corridor and security door they passed she looked more and more closed off and less like the girl who had smiled so brightly up at him a few minutes ago. He hoped that Fury would be reasonable because, from the few interactions he's had with her, he could tell that SHIELD would benefit from having someone like her around. She had a soldiers pragmatism and bravery tempered with a kind heart and a thirst for equality. And while SHIELD had plenty of people who were pragmatic and a few that were brave they were severely lacking in the other categories.

Though the Ministry of Magic looked nothing like this building Hermione was having a difficult time not relating the industrious nature and oppressive feel of the place with it. It was making her more paranoid than necessary and she needed to be at her best for this interview. She started to clear her mind. While she knew that these muggles had no way of getting into her head despite their best tries, she thought it better for her peace of mind that she put up her Occlumency walls, however weak they were. No one had ever taught her the skill, but when she had learned of it from Harry in their fifth year she had read a dozen books on it and during that awful year on the run, between hunting down horcruxes, trying to decipher what meager clues Dumbledore had left them, and learning as much combat magic as she could, she had begun the process of learning how to block her mind from others. It would have never held up against Dumbledore, Voldemort, or even Professor Snape, but it had been enough to let her keep her mind while Bellatrix tortured her.

Steve had swiped her through no less than six secure doors before they reached a solid oak door. At Steve's nod she stepped forward and wiped the remaining traces of emotion from her face and any and all thoughts of the wizarding world. If she wasn't thinking about it then they couldn't find a lie in what she was saying. She thought of water as calm as glass and forced her anger and pain to sink below the surface. It's difficult and unfamiliar after a year on the run, but Hermione pulled up her pre-war persona, that of an over-eager scholar and defender of the downtrodden. It wasn't perfect and she isn't sure that it ever will be again. She had seen and done too much in the shadows. She looked at Steve and when he tilted his lips upward reassuringly she looked straight at the door took one last deep breath and knocked.

From the depths of the room she heard a deep male voice say, "Come in."

The office was exactly how she expected a modern agency to look. Tall windows and light colored wood, maybe oak decorated the room for a very open feel to the room. In the middle of the room sat a desk with tidy papers and a desktop. Standing behind the desk was a tall gentleman in all dark clothes. The most striking thing about him was his eyes, one was obscured by an eye patch, but the other one was intense and staring right at her.

"Ms. Granger I assume?" His voice lacked warmth. Hermione sensed this was a man who liked to keep confidences and operated in secrecy.

"Yes, that's me. I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name," she said as she walked to the desk and offered her hand to shake.

He took her hand after a cursory look over her. She was average height, decently pretty, though by no means a knockout like Agent Romanoff, underweight, not muscled in the right places, and very young which likely meant she wasn't spy for someone else. It could mean that she had her own agenda, but if he was honest with himself she looked like a lost waif trying to right her life. Her grip was firm in his as they shook hands.

"Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. Please sit down Ms. Granger and tell me why you're looking for a job with us."

"To be honest, I didn't know this was an intelligence agency until I walked up. I imagine it was by your design that it wasn't mentioned. However, in general I'm looking for a job, because I'm just starting out in this country and I want to do something meaningful rather than sit at my apartment."

He sensed she was being truthful even though she was holding back. "If I were to hire you what do you consider your strengths?" He was very interested in her answer to this one. This one could tell him the nature of her involvement with whatever conflict she was being awarded for.

"My strengths?" Hermione had to think about this one for a second. She couldn't tell him about magic obviously and she wasn't sure what skills she could actually provide an intelligence agency. "Research, I've a decent head for strategy, I'm a fast learner, and in a pinch I'm a pretty good tracker." Hermione tried to keep the dark look off her face. She supposed after having tracked pieces of Voldemort down and all the times she had to find a teacher or Merlin forbid, one of her boys in that giant castle she probably qualified as being a decent tracker.

"And your weaknesses?"

She smiled privately, "Technology, things tend to go a little haywire around me."

Fury was intrigued at this point. In this day and age for a researcher not to be good at technology was a little strange and no commander sent a researcher or tracker into open combat or anywhere near the front lines. It was asinine since their skills were better off utilized elsewhere, but he didn't believe for even a moment that this girl hadn't seen combat.

He could see the cracks in the projection she was putting on. She was doing a fairly good job of pretending that she was carefree, but he could see that underneath she was hurting just like any other soldier after a conflict. Though he wasn't aware of any current conflict in the UK it didn't mean that she hadn't been sent elsewhere.

He folded his hands and leaned across the desk. "Ms. Granger, simple researchers and trackers don't bear the signs of soldiers, get awarded the highest honor available to civilians, nor have their files blanked out so that not even I can read it. There is something you aren't telling me." His tone stayed even until the very end, but it was intense and had Hermione not stood up to truly evil men, she might even have been intimidated.

"Director Fury, I'm not at liberty to discuss what happened. If you can't read my redacted file there's a reason and I'm not about to reveal it to you."

He could tell she was inclined towards rules and order. God he should stick her on Stark detail that ought to be miserable for both of them. She could keep a secret though, which was important for an intelligence agency.

She sighed. "Clearly, what I did was nothing bad if I'm getting rewarded for it." Which wasn't even strictly true considering she had broken more rules than she could count and evaded her government for nearly a year, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

That was more than Fury could say about some of the other people in his employ. He supposed he would see if there was anyone else he could get more information from, but he would rather hire her and be able to keep an eye on her than have her roaming around unaccounted for and continuing to evade intelligence. Besides, from the limited interaction with her he approved of her and could see why Rogers liked her.

"And yet, Ms. Granger you can't tell me a thing about it."

"Director, read the Newspaper. I'm sure they have some version of the truth in them. The UK can't just grant me a high ranking award and not have something printed about it."

"I could have it dragged out of you," he said with forced indifference. He didn't actually like torture and would never resort to it. He might resort to other ways though.

He saw her eyes darken and her posture become more closed off. She leaned back in her chair, but looked directly at him as she spoke. "You wouldn't and even if you could you wouldn't get anything out of me."

Well that was actually the most insightful thing she had told him all day. She had been tortured at some point and from the conviction in her voice could tell that she hadn't told them a thing. That was valuable in an intelligence agency and as a person.

Hermione could see that he was eyeing her with wary acceptance. Her opinion of Director Fury was that he was that rare person in power who wasn't corrupt. He was hard, brisk, and difficult to please, but he was incorruptible. She wouldn't mind working for him though she sensed it would be trying at times, especially since she felt that she would be heavily watched initially.

"You're right. I wouldn't resort to torture, but beware that others might."

She nodded at him. Damn, Fury thought he must be going soft, because he was going to offer another lost waif a job. "If you choose to accept then I would like to offer you a position here at SHIELD."

"What would I be doing?"

"That remains to be seen Ms. Granger. I'd like to run a few tests to see where your strengths and weaknesses are and depending on the results I might keep you in the office, have you as an agent, or perhaps as a consultant. Your friend Rogers, works as a consultant for us."

She raised her brows. "Not an agent?" It was hard to imagine SHIELD not wanting him in the field. He was clearly well trained and fit as a fiddle.

"Well, he's a special kind of agent." Fury allowed.

Sensing that she wouldn't get any more out of Fury about Rogers she asked, "When would these tests be? And of what nature would they be?"

"Tomorrow, right at eight am and they are a set of tests designed to test field capability."

She eyed Fury warily, "I won't be subjected to intense scrutiny for details of my past?"

Fury leaned back in his chair though his muscles didn't appear any more relaxed. "No, much as it galls me to admit it, SHIELD has little business digging into your past so long as it doesn't affect national security." However, even if it never went on the record Fury intended to do some digging on his own time. It didn't sit right with him that they didn't have anything on her. He would have to ask Rogers exactly what she had told him on their first meeting and see if any of his contacts in the UK had some knowledge of her.

Hermione nodded, "Then I accept and I'll be in first thing in the morning. If that's all?"

Fury stood and following proper protocol shook her hand one last time and walked her to the door. "Ask for Agent Hill in the morning at the front desk."

Hermione let out a small sigh when the door closed behind her. That was probably the best she could have hoped for. She didn't get interrogated, she had a seemingly worthwhile job, and she hadn't accidently set anything on fire. There was no telling if the Director would look into her past further or not, but she was confident that he wouldn't find out much more about her as long as she was careful. As far as she was concerned he didn't need to know about the existence of extraordinary humans who could do magic.

Steve was leaning up against a wall further down the hall. She broke out into a small smile of relief as she walked towards him. He had of course heard Director Fury tell her to come back in the morning, but since no normal human could have heard that he waited until she smiled at him to let out a grin.

"So good news then?" he asked.

"Yup, I have a job though I'll need to come in for testing tomorrow."

"Are they going to decide where to put you then?"

"That's what the Director said."

"I take it by the length of your interview that you didn't get interrogated too badly?" he asked.

She looked over at him without moving her head as they proceeded out the door. "No, we agreed that it was none of SHIELD's business what my past was as long as it was exemplary, though I have a feeling that Fury will try and look into it anyway."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"Fury doesn't look like the kind of man to let sleeping dragons lie."

He looked at her curiously, "I thought the expression was sleeping dogs?"

Hermione blinked. "So it is." She would have to remember that she was in the muggle world now and stop talking like she was a witch. As far as muggles were concerned there was no such thing as dragons.

After a long pause with no explanation Steve let it go and continued on. "And no, Fury isn't the type to let anything go."

Steve tossed her his extra bike helmet, "Would you prefer to go straight home or would you like some lunch first?" He wasn't sure what had prompted him to ask her to lunch, but he hoped she would accept, because he wanted to find out more about her. Not just because no one else knew anything about her, but because she seemed relatable and like a good person underneath the trauma. Besides maybe it was about time for him to make some normal friends in this time.

She smiled up at him, "Lunch would be wonderful. I haven't the slightest idea what restaurants are good here."

"Pizza sound good?" He threw a leg over his bike and waited till she had scooted comfortably around in her seat to start the engine. The engine roared to life when he turned the key.

"That will work," she shouted over the noise as they sped off. Wind whipped through her curls and tugged at her clothes. She giggled gleefully and wondered if this is what Harry felt like when he flew; the intoxicating freedom and giddiness of escape. If it was she now understood why he was willing to buy top of the line broomsticks and skirt curfew at night to fly.

Hermione looked around the city as they rode from headquarters to whichever pizza place Steve was taking her. It was a truly diverse city with an interesting collection of old and new.

All too soon Steve slowed them to a stop outside a whole in the wall pizza place. He swung himself off the bike and held out a hand to help Hermione. She placed her hand in his and clamored off the seat. Her hand was small and the softest skin he had ever felt. He dropped it and scratched the back of his neck. "This place has been serving pizza since I was a boy."

Glancing up at the sign that read _George's Pizza established 1930_ Hermione smiled at him, "And for quite some time before that too."

He shrugged noncommittally, "I suppose so." He was glad she hadn't read too far into that. He could tell she was observant and if he let slip too many of those unintentional secrets about his life than she would definitely find out that he was Captain America. Although he supposed if she was going to work with SHIELD she would probably find out eventually. However as much as he wanted to be friends with her he wasn't sure how she would react to his other identity and he couldn't be friends with her or help her if she took it badly or worse, started hero worshipping him. Besides he had to make sure she understood the necessity of keeping it an absolute secret.

They ordered a pizza and sat down to talk while they waited. Conversation was a little stilted here and there when one of them came up against a secret, but overall flowed pretty smoothly when they stuck to safe topics.

"That big building with STARK written on it what's that supposed to be for?" she asked nodding her head towards the view of it out the window.

Steve rolled his eyes, "It's Stark Industries and it's supposed to be about clean energy I think, but the owner of it Mr. Stark, is flashy and conceited."

"I can see that. I suppose it's lucky that we are unlikely to interact with him then."

He smiled. "You're right." After a pause in the conversation where they were both lost in their own thoughts. "Well let's get you home so you are in peak condition for your testing tomorrow."

She frowned knowing that her body still had the vestiges of malnutrition and curse wounds on it. That though it was still tougher than the average muggle's body it was frail and beat up from the war still. It bothered her that if she pulled up her shirt her ribs were too visible and her hip bone stuck out far too much. Not to mention the words carved in her arms or the other wounds still in the process of healing littered over her body

Steve wondered what he said that made her so quiet and contemplative. She was quiet the whole way home until they got to her apartment.

She slipped off her borrowed helmet. "Thank you for the ride and the interview opportunity."

"It was no problem. Do you want a ride tomorrow for your testing as well?"

She turned halfway from her door. "If it isn't any trouble than it would save me from having to call a cab."

He smiled at her. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Thank you again and goodnight."

**A/N** So I don't have a good excuse why I haven't been writing, except that I went through a bunch of life changes recently. And since I never intended this to be more than just a one shot if anyone has any suggestions then pm me or leave it in a review. I'm always happy to hear from readers.

Thanks for reading!

BlushinRosie


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